


Transubstantiation

by meretricula



Category: Maleficent (2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 09:15:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2807309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meretricula/pseuds/meretricula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After all the dust settles, Diaval seems to be suffering from a shape-changing crisis. Maleficent is reluctantly dragged along for the ride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Transubstantiation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Spartana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spartana/gifts).



> Many thanks to [redacted] for the speedy beta!

Between cleaning up the mess after defeating Stefan for good and everything that needed to be done before Aurora could be crowned, it took Maleficent a while to notice that Diaval was acting strangely around her. Only around her -- he was no different toward Aurora, even if she was now a queen, which Maleficent found both pleasing and obscurely insulting. She was glad for Diaval's unflagging devotion to their Beastie, but less so for the implication that something about _her_ was driving Diaval's oddity. She hadn't changed, after all, except that she had her wings back. 

"Dragons see things differently," Diaval said vaguely, when she brought the subject up. 

"You were a dragon for less than a day," Maleficent snapped. "That's hardly an explanation." 

"It's the only one I have, Mistress," he said. He shrugged, his glance darting in all directions when normally he would have looked her in the eye. "Give it time, I'm sure it'll pass."

*

Time passed, and it, whatever it was, did not. Diaval alternated between hovering at Maleficent's elbow when she wanted to be alone and inconveniently vanishing when she required assistance. A small heap of garbage began to accumulate at the base of the tree in which she slept. So long as it was made up of metal and glass odds and ends, she was inclined to let the matter lie, but when decomposing animal corpses made their presence known, her small supply of patience was exhausted. Before she could hunt down her wayward familiar and extract a real explanation, however, he came to her. 

"You want me to turn you into a wolf again," Maleficent said slowly. 

"Yes, mistress," Diaval said. He looked -- she wasn't generally in the habit of evaluating Diaval's appearance, but he looked tired. Possibly ill. Maleficent scowled. 

"The last time I turned you into a wolf, you told me you would rather be a worm. I distinctly recall the tantrum you threw."

"Yes, mistress," Diaval repeated. He really did not look at all well, Maleficent thought. Not that she cared particularly, but she had no use for a sick familiar. 

"Is there some reason for the sudden change of heart?" she inquired. 

"It's not as though I _like_ it," Diaval said, irritated. "Dogs, ugh! It's your fault, mistress. I was a simple raven before you came along. Now it's all -- jumbled up in my head. I don't know what's me, and what's the wolf, or the horse, or the _dragon_. I just need... I need to figure it out." 

"So you want me to turn you into all of them again? And you think that will help?" 

"It can't make it worse," Diaval said flatly. Maleficent was used to his constant complaining -- occasionally she suspected he did it so dramatically to make her laugh -- but she wasn't sure how to react to this. "Just give me a day in each of them, so I can work out what parts are which."

Asking if he was certain would only give him the mistaken impression that she was concerned about his wishes, so: "Into a wolf," Maleficent said. 

Diaval fell to his hands and knees as his human body sprouted fur and contorted itself into a four-legged shape. As soon as the transformation was complete, he let out a desolate howl. "Oh, don't start with that," Maleficent snapped. "It was your idea. Get used to this, you have a day and a night of being a wolf before I turn you into a horse." Suddenly irritated beyond her ability to tolerate, she launched herself into the air. The godforsaken sound of Diaval's yowling followed her as she flew away. 

*

Maleficent slept uneasily that night, aware against her will of the empty crook in the branch by her head where Diaval usually rested in raven form. When she looked down, she discovered that he had instead curled up in a ball at the foot of her tree. As soon as he noticed that she was awake, he let out a pitiful whine. 

"Stop that," Maleficent said crossly. "What do you want? If you're hungry, go find yourself a rabbit. I'm not feeding you." 

The whining increased in both pitch and volume until she gave up on her perch and glided down to the ground. "If you think that that ridiculous noise will persuade me to -- _ugh_!" She wiped her hand on Diaval's fur. "If you lick me again, the next thing I'll turn you into is a coat." 

Diaval yipped at her, unrepentant as ever, and circled around her to nudge at the backs of her knees with his -- thankfully dry -- nose. "This is an extremely inefficient method of communication," she complained, reluctantly seating herself on the ground with her back to the trunk of her tree. "I don't see why -- oh, all right," she allowed ungraciously, as Diaval whuffed out a sigh and dropped his very heavy head into her lap. "But only for a little while. You're turning into a horse this afternoon." 

The fur behind his ears was extraordinarily soft. 

*

"Godmother! Godmother?" 

Aurora's voice floated into Maleficent's consciousness, and she sat up with a sudden jerk. She had fallen asleep, propped up against the tree with Diaval's head in her lap. "If you've drooled on me, you'll wish I'd never saved your life," she muttered. Diaval snorted in response, and Maleficent flicked him on the nose. She didn't need to know the speech of wolves to understand that he'd meant something rude. 

"There you are, Godmother!" Aurora appeared in a gap between the trees. Her brilliant smile vanished as soon as she came close enough to see, replaced by a reproachful look. "Is that Diaval? Oh, Godmother." 

"He _asked_ to be turned into a wolf!" Maleficent said defensively. Diaval let out his most pathetic whine yet and scrambled over to Aurora, rubbing his head against her side in a blatant play for sympathy. "Don't you _dare_ ," Maleficent hissed. 

"You poor thing," Aurora said, stroking Diaval's head. "I know how much you must hate it. But you're a very pretty wolf! Yes, you are," she cooed. Diaval's eyes slipped shut and his tongue lolled out of his mouth when she scratched behind his ears. 

"If you hate it so much, I suppose it's time for a change," Maleficent said to Diaval, poisonously sweet. Diaval, immediately taking her meaning, backed away from Aurora with undignified haste. "Into a horse."

"Oh!" Aurora cried, staring, as Diaval's body shifted and his limbs lengthened. The change of shape was less dramatic from wolf to horse than from man to raven, but it took longer, perhaps because Maleficent was less familiar with the forms, perhaps because Diaval was. She would never have admitted it, especially not to Diaval, but she wasn't entirely certain that the animal she had turned him into was exactly a horse. Not that it mattered, she justified to herself; it was closer to a horse than it was to anything else. 

"There is no need for concern, Beastie," Maleficent said. "Diaval has asked to try a few different shapes for a while, that's all. He knows what is happening."

"But does it hurt?" Aurora's eyes filled with tears, and she stroked a finger down Diaval's new nose. He butted her gently in the chest in response. "It looked like it hurts."

"No, of course not," Maleficent said, then frowned. "I don't think. He's never said so before." 

Diaval whuffed noisily and nudged at Aurora's arm until she laughed and went back to petting his nose. "All right, all right! Pretty horsie," she teased. 

"Kindly cease behaving in that nauseatingly sycophantic manner, Diaval," Maleficent said, an instruction which was met with an uncooperative snort. Aurora beamed at them both, not daunted in the least. 

"Oh, Godmother, you're so funny. I'm going riding with Philip this afternoon, but do you think maybe when I'm back -- oh!" Diaval had knelt down in front of Aurora in a clear invitation to climb up on his back. After a moment, he looked back at her over his shoulder, impatient. "Oh, Diaval, are you sure you don't mind? Godmother, _may_ I?" 

There might have been something which Maleficent could deny Aurora when she looked up at her with that pleading expression, but she hadn't discovered it yet -- and in any event, she would much rather entrust Aurora to Diaval's care than let her go off with that young milksop Philip with nothing but a dumb beast for a chaperone. "If you like," she said, carefully marshaling her face into indifference. 

"Oh, thank you! We'll have so much fun, won't we, Diaval?" Aurora settled herself astride Diaval's broad, shining back, and he rose to his feet carefully enough to suit even Maleficent's gimlet eye. "Will you come with us, Godmother?" 

"No, thank you, Beastie." Maleficent felt her cheeks stretch in a still-unaccustomed smile. "I shall see you on your return."

"I'll bring Diaval back before sun-down," Aurora promised. 

"I think Diaval will bring _you_ back," Maleficent corrected. 

"Oh, you know what I mean," Aurora said with a smile. "I'm to meet Philip by the stream, Diaval -- will you bring me there? Goodbye, Godmother!" she called, waving over her shoulder as Diaval set off at very gentle trot. "We'll see you tonight!" 

Maleficent watched them until they vanished into the trees. Diaval knew perfectly well how to carry a rider without letting her fall, she reminded herself. And she had important matters to attend to, which Diaval had distracted her from with his shape-changing crisis. She needed to inspect Aurora's kingdom from the skies and make certain all was well. 

Yes, Maleficent decided, unfolding her wings. She would fly a patrol. That would be an excellent use of her afternoon, and she would enjoy the exercise. If she could also keep an eye on Aurora and Diaval from above, that was purely incidental. 

*

That night, for reasons she elected not to examine too closely, Maleficent left her usual perch in her tree and glided down to the ground, where Diaval had folded himself up to sleep. "Chew on my hair or feathers and I'll sell you to the glue-maker," Maleficent warned, settling down with her head on his side. Diaval, for once in his life, made no reply. 

*

"I think we'll need more space for this," Maleficent mused, contemplating the size of her clearing in comparison with that of a dragon. "Meet me by the old castle, and don't take too long getting there, mind." Diaval tossed his head with a loud whinny. "No, don't be ridiculous. I can fly faster than you can carry me. Meet me there." She launched herself into the air, circled long enough to make sure that Diaval was running in the right direction, and flew off to the ruined castle where she had, in darker times, made her home. 

It was strange to fly without Diaval; strange to have wings while he had none. For all of his insolence, Maleficent valued Diaval's loyalty throughout her long grounded years, his faithful service as her wings when she had been wingless. She had not yet considered what he would be to her now, when she had wings of her own again. 

While she waited for Diaval's earth-bound arrival, Maleficent wandered through the crumbling castle, her mind on other changes she might make. She had no need of a castle for fortifications or shelter; the war between the realms was over, and she slept in a tree. But perhaps there were others who would. 

At the sound of Diaval's hooves on the road below, Maleficent climbed out the nearest window and dove down to meet him, alighting just outside the dilapidated gate. "Do you think Aurora would like to have a castle?" she asked without preamble. Diaval snorted, rolling his eyes across the less than welcoming prospect before them. "Obviously I would make numerous improvements before I gave it to her," Maleficent said, scowling. "Or... no, I suppose you're right. We'll have to tear it down and start from scratch. How fortunate that you will be a useful size. Into a dragon!"

*

After a productive afternoon and evening of rebuilding in white marble the walls that Diaval had torn, roared, and trampled down, Maleficent was cautiously pleased with the overall effect of their work. "I suppose it will need flowers," she sighed to Diaval, who was likewise surveying the castle from the courtyard, "but I can find some nitwit pixie to take care of that." 

He rumbled deep in his throat, and Maleficent found herself encircled by a set of massive talons that lifted her into the air and deposited her up on Diaval's shoulder. Strangely, it never occurred to her to be afraid, even for a moment: not because she was powerful enough to defend herself, although she was, but because she knew Diaval would no sooner hurt her than he would tear off his own wings. "Was that meant to be a suggestion?" she inquired. 

Diaval rumbled again, and settled down into a posture that reminded Maleficent of nothing so much as a sleeping cat: legs folded under, wings tucked away, and his enormous head resting on his paws. "Point taken," Maleficent said; it had been a long, tiring day. She curled up just behind his head, above the shoulder blades, and discovered why he had put her there in the first place: his scales were thinner around his neck, dangerously vulnerable and soft as sueded leather. "Good night, Diaval." 

The noise that answered her was louder and deeper than any cat could produce, but she would have staked the castle they had just rebuilt that it was a purr. 

*

Diaval was restless the next morning, pacing around the courtyard, which was nowhere near large enough to accommodate his perambulations. Maleficent's patience ran short quickly. "Kindly utilize the wings I have given you," she suggested, "and _fly somewhere else_. You will have to entertain yourself until this afternoon."

Diaval made a sound that Maleficent suspected was the draconic equivalent of his whine as a wolf and lowered his body until his belly was flush with the ground, one foreleg outstretched all the way to her feet. "I don't think that's a good idea," she said slowly. Diaval whined again, louder. "Diaval, be reasonable. There's nothing for me to hold onto, and -- "

The force of his snort nearly knocked her over in a gust of sulfurous fumes. "Remember that you asked for this, then," she said irritably, and conjured up a wide black collar around his neck. Ignoring the suggested stepladder of his foreleg, she flew up to his shoulder and secured herself in the same place where she had slept the previous night. "I do have wings of my own, you know. It's hardly as though I need -- " The rest of her sentence was cut off by the backdraft as Diaval unceremoniously launched himself into the sky. 

*

Flying with someone else's wings was very different, compared to using her own. Diaval's dragon body was built for long distances, not for speed; she knew she could have outraced him in a dive or a sprint, but for one morning she found she didn't mind sitting astride his neck and watching the land below glide by without exerting herself. 

When it came time to land, however, the drawbacks of his current form presented themselves once more. "Just go back to the castle!" Maleficent shouted over the sound of the wind rushing past. She felt his body ripple under her in a sigh before he turned around and headed back the way they came. 

It was already past noon by the time they alighted in the castle courtyard. Maleficent looked up at her familiar, wondering what he would have to say about his experiment once he could talk again. "Ready?" she asked. 

Diaval sighed and lowered his head in an approximation of a nod. 

"Very well," Maleficent said. "Into a man." 

It seemed to take a long time for Diaval's body to shrink down and morph into human form. When it was finished, he was curled up in a ball in the ground, his arms hugged around his knees. He uncurled and stood up very slowly. "Thank you, mistress," he said, his voice hoarse. 

"Are you finished, then?" she asked. "Or do you want to be turned into a raven tomorrow?"

"No," he said. "Not unless you need me to. I know what being a raven feels like already."

Maleficent puzzled over that statement for a moment, then abandoned the attempt. "So, are you satisfied now?"

"Hmm," Diaval said noncommittally, staring past Maleficent to the open castle gate. "Mistress, if you could only change my shape one more time, and that shape would be mine for the rest of my days, what would you choose to make me?"

"What a ridiculous question," Maleficent said. "Why would I not be able to change you back?"

"Indulge me, mistress," he said. 

"I cannot say," she said slowly. "I think if I turned you into any dumb animal forever, I would miss your voice. But if I left you a man, I think that you would miss your wings." 

"Yes," Diaval said. "I suppose I would. Never mind, mistress. It was only a foolish question."

"Very well," Maleficent said. "Answer a question for me in return, then. Did all this serve a purpose? Did you learn what you wished to know?"

Diaval let out his harsh caw of a laugh. "After a fashion, mistress, I suppose. It wasn't what I _wished_ to learn, for certain."

"Leave off the posturing and poorly executed air of mystery," Maleficent said tartly. "They ill suit you."

Diaval laughed again, more genuinely. "I'll do my humble best, mistress," he said. He looked off into the distance for a moment, frowning, and finally added, "The different shapes, they see things differently. I see things differently when I'm in them, I suppose. I wanted to know if they felt different things and that was why, but it isn't. They feel the same. They just interpret it differently." Fascinated, Maleficent gestured for him to continue. "The wolf thinks you're our pack, and the horse thinks you're our herd, and the dragon thinks you're, uh. Our princess. But they all mean the same thing in the end." 

"And what is that?"

"That -- do I really have to say it, mistress?" he asked, voice rising in tone of complaint familiar across all his different bodies. She fixed him with her most forbidding glare. "They mean that I love you. I know you don't -- I know you don't believe in love, and you wouldn't care even if you did. But I do."

"How does the raven see me?" Maleficent asked, after a long pause to think. 

Diaval sighed in reassuringly familiar irritation. "He thinks you're our mate."

"And the man?"

"Humans are too complicated," Diaval said. "I don't know. It's not just one thing. Can you just -- forget that I said anything, and -- "

"I've thought of the form I would choose for you," Maleficent announced. 

"Wait, what?"

"The form I would give you, if I could never change it again. I've decided. If you don't like it, you'll just have to change it for yourself. Into a fairy."

For the most part Diaval looked the same when the smoke cleared, although a faint aura of magic lingered, as did his bewildered expression. Maleficent noted with satisfaction the few major changes: his modest horns and magnificent, jet-black wings. 

"I know that love is real," Maleficent said. "I know because it saved our Beastie, and I know because I feel it for her more with every passing day, and every day I think that no more love can fit in my heart, and every day after I am proved wrong. I don't know yet if I love you, Diaval, but I know that I missed speaking with you when you had no voice, and I missed flying with you when you had no wings, and it pleases me to hear you say you love me. Is that enough for now?"

"Enough and more, mistress," Diaval said. He still looked dazed. 

"You're a fairy now, not a mortal creature," Maleficent said. "You need not call me mistress."

"Man, fairy, or dumb wingless beast," Diaval said firmly, "I am your creature all my days, and you are still my mistress."

"Very well," Maleficent said. "Would my creature care to go for a flight?"

Diaval's teeth flashed white briefly, before he caught Maleficent's hand and pressed his smile to her palm. "Always, my mistress."


End file.
